Running
by Kooro
Summary: And Kate was at his side the whole time, smiling at him and never letting go of his hand. But, as all dreams must, it had to end. Extended ending to "Out of the Box." For ArmedWithAComputer. Neter Bromance.
1. The Dream

**For ArmedWithAComputer. If it hadn't been for your request of an "Out of the Box" fanfic, this story may never have been posted. I dedicate this to you. Thank you.**

**This is an extended ending/missing scene from the White Collar season one finale, "Out of the Box." Since the episode didn't show what happened right after the explosion, I took the liberty of making my own ending. It's two chapters so don't think it's done yet. **

**This can take the place of the Tuesday episode that was unable to air today because the second season ended. I know it's not the same thing but, if some of you have been craving a White Collar episode today like I am, if will do. Enjoy.**

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Running

He could hear the rising pitch of the jet as the engines warmed and worked in preparation to fly.

He knew that someone very important to him was also on that plane. He had seen her. She had waved at him from the doorway of the plane and then had taken her seat by one of the windows, her beautiful eyes gazing invitingly at him from behind the glass.

How he wanted to be there with her; to embrace her and make her laugh and keep her happy and keep her safe.

But he wasn't looking at her now. No, he was looking at someone else whom he also held dear and considered a significant part of his new life.

He was looking at Peter Burke, the man that had ultimately captured him and then had ultimately befriended him, turning the once legendary con man and thief into a man who used those skills once used for crime to solve cases for the FBI. It was a strange and oddly ironic relationship that had somehow morphed from professional to personal until the ex-con could no longer see the badge on Peter or the anklet on his own leg, but two completely opposite men who had formed a friendship.

A friendship that Peter Burke was not yet ready to let go of.

And the ex-con could see why. They had been through so much together, from the danger of gunpoint - and worse scenarios of near-death experiences - to their comedic acts of arguing that neither man could keep a straight face through for long. They had talked about lost-love and risky business. They had worked side by side, even when they were on opposite teams. They planned, protected, and resolved.

And, more than all that, they had trusted each other.

And now he was going to leave the man that had been his only friend when all others were ready and willing to write him off back to jail. The man, with his affectionate wife, that had offered him a home; a family. The man that had given him a second chance and then had fought for the opportunity to keep it.

He could see it all in Peter's pleading eyes. He didn't want the ex-con, the lady's man, and the overall pain in his ass, to go.

Neal Caffrey looked at the man standing before him, his own crystalline eyes betraying the confusion and sadness he was feeling. He glanced back at the woman waiting in the plane, his Kate, and felt his heart ache painfully in his chest.

He turned back to Peter and could see a spark of hope ignite in the older man's eyes.

"Peter," Neal began.

He paused. Then squared his shoulders decisively as he held his head high to meet Peter's gaze.

"I don't want to run anymore," he said matter-of-factly. "And getting on that plane will just be another escape."

Without another word, Neal spun on his heel and marched up to the plane. Peter took a step after him but stopped. It was Neal's decision. He had been allowed to express his opinion on the matter of Neal's departure but it was still Neal's choice.

And he had chosen to leave.

Peter watched the receding back of the famous (or rather, the infamous) Neal Caffery as the man ducked into the plane. He felt a strange pang of pain in his chest but resisted the urge to press his palm against his chest by stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Oh well, it had been a good run. Actually, the most fun he'd had in a long time. Sure, a lot of it was tedious and frustrating and job-threatening, but he had enjoyed his time working alongside the ex-con. Things weren't going to be as lively without him.

"Peter!" a voice called.

Peter turned and his mouth fell agape at the sight of Neal trotting towards him with that stupid grin on his face. Surprising still was that he had Kate in tow. Neal waved excitedly as his pace increased slightly. The plane lunged forward behind them as the engines roared to life.

By the time Neal and Kate reached Peter it had already lifted into the sky. Then Neal and Kate were standing before Peter. Neal's smile beamed at the agent.

It took a moment for Peter to find the ability to form words. Then, "Neal?"

"Peter," Neal greeted as if he had just come back from a long trip and Peter had come to pick him up and take him home. "You remember Kate."

The woman standing beside Neal and holding his hand smiled nervously and waved half-heartedly at Peter.

Yes he knew Kate, but that wasn't what he was concerned about.

"What are you doing here?" he finally sputtered.

Neal looked confused and a shadow of hurt flickered across his fair features.

"Didn't you want me to stay?" Neal asked.

"Of course I did, but you-"

"Is it because Kate's here too? I know what you said but I believe in what I had originally thought." Neal said quickly as he looked down at Kate, purposefully being vague to hide the fact that Peter had told him to forget about Kate and live a better life without her.

"That's not it," Peter tried to explain. His hands were in the air and trying to express the words that weren't able to come out. Or rather, that weren't allowed to come out due to a certain interruption.

"Then what's wrong?" Neal asked, watching Peter's waving hands but unable to decipher the signals. His brow furrowed quizzically. "I thought you'd be happier to see me."

"Why are you here?" Peter finally managed to say.

Neal took a step back in surprise.

Peter backpedaled. "I mean, why aren't you on that plane? Why did you choose to stay?"

Understanding lifted Neal's brow and he smiled. "Because you were right."

Now it was Peter to be taken aback. Neal didn't lightly submit to Peter by confessing the agent was right. In fact, Neal took a lot of time to reveal that it was he that was right rather than Peter.

"How so?" Peter asked.

"I have a life here. My family's here," Neal shrugged as if it were the simplest thing to understand. "You, El, June, Mozzie. I didn't want to leave all that. I told you before. I'm tired of running."

"So you're staying?"

Neal smiled and slipped his arm across Kate's shoulders. "We both are."

It was the perfect ending.

Peter had happily accepted Neal's decision and escorted the two back to June's house. The elderly lady embraced Neal in her delight to see the ex-con again and had readily accepted Kate into her home. Mozzie was moping in Neal's room and was surprised - and embarrassed for showing such surprise - to see his friend back that Neal could have sworn he say tears glistening behind the man's glasses. Then Peter had invited them all to his house where El created a beautiful and most delicious dinner for the five of them. All the while, Neal was getting slaps on the back, hair ruffles, and shoulder pats from the people who had entered his life and stubbornly refused to leave it. And Kate was at his side the whole time, smiling at him and never letting go of his hand.

Laughter filled the night air. It was so wonderful, as if it were a dream.

But, as all dreams must, it had to end.

**._._._._._._.**

**I've been so busy with my "Partners of Paradox" compilation, that I haven't had time to write and post an individual story. And my classes at college will be starting next week so then I'll have even less time. **

**Oh well, I'll still post. **

**And it seems I may have been too hasty on my hypothesis of Kate's situation. I had originally thought that she may have been still alive since dramas love to bring back characters previously presumed to be dead. But I guess she really is gone. Not too heartbroken over it. She wasn't that great of a character. **

**What I will not accept, is the condition of Mozzie. I can't believe that they'd kill off the plucky comic relief. Knowing Mozzie, though, he was probably paranoid enough to have on some sort of protection. Weak enough to allow a wound to bleed but strong enough to save his life perhaps. I don't know. Guess we'll all find out next season. **

**Well then, until next time,  
Hoeby-Ho**


	2. The Reality

**Again, this story is dedicated to ArmedWithAComputer who hath requested it. (Sorry your request was answered with a sad/angsty fic rather than comedic fluff, but I'm glad you still like it)**

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Running

_Chapter 2:_

The images dissolved and the darkness lifted.

The laughter faded and was replaced by the serious thrum of urgent voices. Sirens assaulted his ears that had previously enjoyed the sounds of wine glasses clinking against each other. The feeling slowly returned to his fingers and the sensation crept along his arms and legs. He became conscious to the cold around him. Neal could feel the hard ground digging into his back although something slightly softer pillowed his head.

The light didn't recede from behind his close lids and he finally gave up trying to escape the glare.

Neal opened his eyes blearily and blinked several times to adjust his tired eyes to the sunlight that streamed down from the blue sky. Despite the heat from the rays, a cold wind blew and Neal felt the faintest pricks of water hitting his face.

He tried to sit up to see where he was and what was happening around him but his head screamed in protest and his stiff back prevented him from moving too much. His head plopped back onto a hastily folded jacket.

He released a low moan in discomfort.

"Neal?" a worried voice asked.

Neal forced his eyes to open once more and he focused meekly on a face hovering over his own. Slowly, he started to make out the familiar features of the face.

"Peter?" he asked in a rustic voice.

Peter released a relieved sigh and bowed his head in thanks for a moment before returning his gaze to Neal.

"Yeah," he answered gently.

"I fell asleep."

"Yeah."

"Was I dreaming?"

"I think so."

"Oh," Neal said sadly. He rubbed his eyes with one hand but realized that the other was currently preoccupied.

He looked to his side to see that his hand was firmly grasping Peter's. The agent's fingers were wrapped gently over his hand. Conscious of the act, Neal released his grip and wiggled out of Peter's.

"Sorry," he said with a soft shade of pink tinting his cheeks. "I was dreaming about…" His sentence faded as the memory of the dream flickered in his head.

"Kate," he said suddenly and then looked to Peter, a smile pulling at his lips. "Peter, where's Kate. Is she around?"

Peter's face fell so abruptly and into such a pained expression that Neal's own smile dropped. Emotion swirled in those brown eyes as Peter looked away.

"Peter?" Neal asked softly, not liking the agent's quiet response.

"I'm so sorry." Peter whispered.

Neal didn't understand. Kate had gotten off the plane with him. Where was she?

An explosion.

The memory resurfaced into his mind and the image made his head pound. He could feel the heat of the explosion; feel the power of it as it slammed into his back and knocked him to the ground. He could see the flames, burning.

Neal jackknifed into a sitting position, ignoring the pain that seared in his head.

"Neal, you shouldn't move," Peter said, the concern back in his voice as he moved to ease the younger man back onto the ground.

But Neal refused. He pushed against Peter, his eyes staring unbelieving at the glowing mass of metal where a plane used to be. Firemen still sprayed the metal and the surrounding area with water, the wind blowing stray drops into Neal's face. The water mixed with the tears that spilled down his cheeks.

"No!" Neal screamed in a heart-wrenching tone. He clawed at the arm Peter braced across his chest and the agent held him as Neal screamed in protest and cried his anguish.

The plane was gone. He remembered now. It had exploded, with Kate in it. He had screamed in the same way he was now and had tried to run to the burning mass but Peter had held him back. Exhausted and knowing there was nothing he could do, Neal had fallen to his knees to watch the plane burn and crumble in on itself. Peter had called for the police and firemen. They had come quickly enough but Neal already knew that no one could have survived the explosion. Peter had led him away and then at some time he must have simply passed out.

But he was awake now.

In his dream, he had told Peter that he was tired of running. But he had unconsciously tried to run again. He should have known that he could never run from the truth before his eyes.

Kate was dead.

Neal allowed his hoarse cries to recede to sobs. He fell against Peter and buried his face into the agent's shoulder; trembling hands gripping the back of Peter's suit. Peter held him and stayed silent, rubbing the man's back apologetically.

"She's gone," Neal murmured.

"I'm sorry," Peter replied in a voice only audible to Neal.

And this time Neal didn't mind running away. It may have been that he was running in a wide loop that was sure to drop him off right where he had started: back at the scene of Kate's death and the destruction of his last hope to be with the woman he loved. But he would run now.

And he was still running. He had run straight for the man that could provide the only comfort, even it was just a pat on the back and a sympathetic silence.

He would run from the truth just a little longer because the truth felt so far away while he was here in his friend and partner's embrace. It felt safe.

He would stop running later. For now, he just wanted to slip off back into the comforting darkness of sleep while in the arms of the man he trusted.

The laughter continued and El brought out dessert. Neal looked to his side and Kate beamed back at him, her fingers once again entwined with his.

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**Thank you for your reviews. They – and you all – are what make writing so damn great. **

**Hobey-Ho**


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